Yesterday, my co-worker Molly got a text from an unknown number that said, “I know where you live.”

I have no patience for creepy shenanigans like that, so I had her give me the phone number.  A quick bit of internet/phone sleuthing later, and I discovered the anonymous texter’s identity – a pre-adolescent boy in the Bay Area, most likely pranking random numbers to freak people out.

So I suggested what any gracious human being would: that she write back, “No, Patrick: I know where YOU live.”

So.  Awesome.

And So. Creepy.

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Now feels like the right time to publicly declare how much I love and appreciate my co-workers.  I am the only person from my team out in Denver, so I spend the entire day corresponding with my teammates through technological means (IM, video chats, conference calls).  And every day, without fail, I find myself silently giggling at my computer screen.

These people are wonderful.  They make me laugh so hard.  And one of them was in “Ernest Scared Stupid” – I’M NOT EVEN JOKING.

I feel so, so lucky to be a part of a team of people who care so well for each other, who approach each day with a positive attitude, and who keep me thoroughly entertained every single day.

Remember when I boldly proclaimed that I was going to walk 1,000 miles between Memorial Day and Labor Day?

Well, then I went to Nashville, where being outside in the summer is the equivalent of being in utero without an umbilical cord.  Is that gross of me to say?  I don’t know – do YOU remember your time in the womb?

Anyway, due to sheer self-preservation and the fact that I value my life, my walking fell behind.  And back in Denver, as of today, June 24, I am only at 119 miles.

Granted, 13 of those miles were yesterday.  THIRTEEN!  I will make up for lost time yet.  Because, as New Math puts it:

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I spent yesterday at an online marketing convention, manning a booth for work.  People were asking for my business card.  I’ve never had anyone ask for my business card before!  I was like, “Hello, I am An Expert.  Nice to meet you.”

My friend Scotty recently told me that she likes getting my emails so much that I should somehow find a way to get paid to correspond with people.  That was so nice of her – because after all, I do love to write emails.

But then I thought, hello.  That IS my job.

Hooray!

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A lot of you have asked how my mom is doing.  She had her final radiation treatment, and is completely finished with all scheduled cancer treatment.  She is currently in Washington state visiting family and friends, and will be active and walking and hiking the whole time – because she is Susan Freaking Parsons and she defies the odds.

I was on the phone with her the other night, and about to hang up.

“Wait!” she cried.  “I’ve been meaning to ask you something for weeks.”

I prepared myself for talk of money, or maybe why I’m single.

“Do you leave your curtains open?  Because I’ve been worried about sun damage to your couch.”

What would I do without this woman?

September 2008:

January 2010:

My ponytail is making a spectacular comeback.  It’s almost a full-blown mane of glory.

Also, please take a moment to note the difference in my work environments.  Thank you, Emma, for saving me from Sir Allen Stanford.

All in all, things are good.  I am alive.  I am busy.  I am working hard.  And I am so, so thankful for this job.

Thanks for hanging in there with me as I settle into a new rhythm!

In other news, I think that my cheap earrings are infecting my earlobes.  Perhaps it’s time to invest in something other than cheap-ass Target jewelry?

And in OTHER other news, I can’t wait to go to T.J. Maxx and get cute organizational boxes for my desk.  They will sit beside the stuffed kangaroo and koala that are holding Australian flags, passed down to me from a new co-worker.

And as my final other news, did anyone else hear about the woman who had the commitment ceremony with the Eiffel Tower?  What the HIZ?

This is the day – the day that I re-establish myself as a contributing member of society.  I am uniting myself with the ranks of the fully employed.

After 19 months of instability, I start at Emma this morning.

I have no idea what to expect – except that it’s going to be good.  Whatever it is, it’s going to be really good.  No more Temptress… you can now address me as the Permanentress.

When I moved to Nashville over a year ago (remember this day?), I was a little bit crazy in the head.  I HAD to be – because in order to do something as bold as moving across the country alone with no plan, one must be a small fraction insane.  I was treating the move as an open-ended “study abroad” of sorts, and knew that I was free to leave at any time, should I decide that Nashville wasn’t for me.  Finding work through a temp agency only supported my non-committal relationship with this city.

But now?  Now I have a real job.  A legitimate job.  An awesome job.  A job that tells me, “Hey, Annie, you should probably stick around and see where this road takes you.”  I’m really staying here for awhile.

Life is never quite what we expect, is it?

In this case, I’m glad.

Did Sly stop with “Rocky IV”?

Did Nadia Suleman call it quits after 6 kids?

Did having brothers named Track and Trig prevent Bristol Palin from naming her son Tripp?

No.

And in the same way, bucking common sense and what might seem like an obvious result… did the demise of my temp-job in this current economy conclude in me being unemployed for all of eternity?

No.

After exactly six weeks of unemployment – I GOT A JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And not just any job. A good job. A great job. A job that makes me so giddy, I want to go throw confetti off the 440 overpass. With people so delightful, I want to bake them each their own personalized cupcake. At a company so awesome, I see it as the pot of gummy bears at the end of a rainbow – the rainbow that runs a mere mile and a half from my house to the offices.

This feels like the one I’ve been waiting for. I am so happy.

See you on Monday, Emma!

Hey, remember when I used to post every morning, Monday through Friday – and not at all on the weekends?  Well, listen up, my little parakeets: those days are over.

I don’t know what days are upon us.  But the fact of the matter is that my life is different.  I don’t know where it’s heading, but I can feel change a brewin’ – and I don’t think that the posting will happen as predictably (i.e. every weekday morning by 11am).  But don’t panic, and don’t cry – I do enough of that for the lot of us – I could never quit blogging.  I’m just saying that sometimes, I might post a lot.  And sometimes, I might have a couple of quiet days.  And sometimes, I might post late at night.  And sometimes, I might post on a lunch break.

That is, if I get a job someday, and thus have something called a “lunch break.”

Speaking of, I do have a little job lined up for this week.  I’m helping a former co-worker get his new financial company up and running, which translates to “preparing paperwork,” which translates to “data entry.”  I am grateful for a little bit of income, especially while I am crossing my fingers for some other things to work out.

By the way, many of you have checked in with me lately and asked about how I’m doing financially during this time of unemployment.  Let me say this: it’s very wise to have an emergency fund.  Very, very wise.  Start saving.

But also, if that fund isn’t very big, it’s really cool to see the ways that God provides for your needs.  Some of you have been a part of that – you know who you are, even if I don’t.  And so it seems strange to say this on this blog, rather than privately, but this is the only way I know how to communicate to you: thank you.  From the bottom of my heart.  I am humbled, and so incredibly grateful.

Now, it’s off to my new temp job.  The Temptress lives again.

But also, before I sign off, guess what: yesterday, I did two things for the first time.  I ran 11.2 miles.  And then I went to Waffle House.

There is nothing like calamity to put everything in perfect perspective. For all of my woe over my role as the Temptress, and knowing that this is not my dream job, suddenly I am grateful to show up in the morning and find the office still operating. I start thinking thoughts like, “If I can just work through tomorrow at 5pm – if we can just stay open through then – I will have earned enough to pay my rent next week.” I am grateful for every hour of income I get – because all of a sudden, nothing is guaranteed.

I suppose that nothing is ever guaranteed – we just trick ourselves into thinking that it is, that we know where the road is leading.

Last night, I went running with the East Nasties. I’m faster than the slow group, but slower than the fast group, so I found myself in the no-man’s-land of running between the two packs on my own. It was dark, and eventually I realized that I didn’t know the route. “What if I get lost?” I worried. I was all alone.

But then I noticed one man a significant distance ahead, and I decided that I would lock my eyes on him. As long as I had him in my sight, I would know where to make the turns.

I don’t know where the road is leading. I cannot see the path. I am sure that I will need to turn soon – that the route is about to look very different – but I have no way of knowing when the shift in direction will occur. All that I can do is put one foot in front of the other, and fix my eyes on the One who has gone before me.

**UPDATE**

The sharp turn came at 1:30pm.  I am now unemployed.

This is what happens when an international financial firm goes down in flames:

The CPA with two small children and a blue-collar husband rushes out of the office, not returning for a half an hour. She wears sunglasses to hide the red eyes and the fear.

The executive assistants commiserate as the systems get shut down one by one. “We have no access to our accounts.” “I can’t get into my email.” “Why won’t this program open up?”

The unflappable, jovial advisor with the infectious laugh and generous spirit has a vacant look behind his eyes. He smiles, but only out of defeat.

When the temp-receptionist asks what she can do to help, she is met with a silent motion from her co-worker: pray.

All employees suddenly become equals. There are no titles – only the shared experience of crumbling stability.

The boss nervously jokes that he has dibs on the artwork on the walls. No one laughs.

All workers are warned to not answer the phones, and, under no circumstances, speak to the press. This is difficult when reporters plant themselves outside the office doors.

The partner from Memphis who frequents the office gives the temp-receptionist his business card, telling her that if they don’t see each other again, to please keep in touch.

No one is given any information. No one knows what is going on. No one has any idea what to expect, and wonders when the SEC will show up.

It feels like the Titanic sinking, and the members of the string quartet shaking hands and exchanging their final words before getting back to business, playing their songs until they are swallowed by the ocean and silenced.

I am blogging to say that I cannot blog today. I am too busy dead-bolting the office doors to keep the press away, abandoning my front-lines lobby perch, and hunkering down in the back at a desk with a spectacular view.

Yes, seriously. It’s been very exciting – in an “I might vomit” kind of way.

That is all I can say at the moment.

I do not have the vocabulary to understand what is going on, but all I can say is that the mood in my financial office today is “terrified” and “frantic.” It is times like this that make me glad that I have no money to speak of, because money makes certain people greedy and fearful.

And when those people screw up, it leaves a lot of honest, hard-working, generous individuals screwed over. My heart hurts for my co-workers.